"Yo, midget!"
Oof! You winced as you felt something heavy shove you to the side of your bed. Groaning, you rubbed your eyes and squinted up into a matching brown pair. It had been eight months, but you'd never forget that slightly arrogant smile.
"Trevor!" You cheer as you sit up and give your older brother a hug.
Trevor was three years older than you, and he'd just finished his first year at college. He'd gotten academic and sports scholarship offers from every school in the state, but he'd chosen a full-ride deal at a private school halfway across the country. It was weird, at first, having your room all to yourself, but you'd started to like having your own space. Not as much as you'd missed your brother, though, and now he'd be home for the whole summer!
"Ow-ow-ow!" You complained as he ran his thick knuckles over your scalp.
"Well stop trying to strangle me!" He laughed. "Been working out since I left?"
"Uhuh," you muttered, slightly embarrassed.
You'd started working out as a freshman, just like Trevor did, hoping to snag a free college ride in a few years. But you'd never taken off like Trevor did. Five years ago, when you were eleven and he was fourteen, Trevor picked up weights for the first time and turned into a local sports miracle. In one year, he grew ten inches taller and put on sixty pounds of muscle. Your older brother had seemed to stretch up and out before your eyes, like one of those time-lapse films from science class, as his early-blooming puberty just kept giving and giving and giving.
His classmates worshiped the ground he walked on, and college scouts started showing up to his JV games. But you were the one who cheered him up when he was tired from sports practice. You were the one who snagged him midnight snacks when his stomach growled loud enough to wake you both up in the middle of the night. You were the one that brought ice packs for his legs when he moaned in pain and you could almost hear his bones creaking.
The two of you bonded during Trevor's magic year. You'd been amazed and fascinated with how fast he grew, and he'd let you track his height on the door frame, stumble around in his discarded shoes, or arm wrestle with him whenever you wanted. He'd tell you how people started treating him differently, how his new teachers thought that just because he was big he might be a bit dumb, even though he'd always been really smart (They figured it out pretty fast).
Trevor's growth slowed to a crawl when he turned fifteen, and he graduated at a sturdy 6'4", tallest in the family. He was still six inches taller than you. Your own growth spurt had been more average, and you'd already slowed down. Feeling nostalgic, you'd faithfully marked your height every month, and you made a point of using your brother's hand-me-downs. They were in practically new condition anyway, and it was kind of fun to compare.
"Come on, get up! We should go out for breakfast." Trevor beamed and with seemingly no effort tugged you out of bed.
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